


No Disaster

by ohnoscarlett



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-17
Updated: 2011-01-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 05:45:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10915536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnoscarlett/pseuds/ohnoscarlett
Summary: #88.  Brendon/Spencer. The Smiths adopt Brendon when he’s a teenager.





	No Disaster

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://no-tags.livejournal.com/profile)[no_tags](http://no-tags.livejournal.com/) challenge. [ Found here. ](http://community.livejournal.com/no_tags/27088.html) Thanks for excellent beta from [](http://cloudlessclimes.livejournal.com/profile)[cloudlessclimes](http://cloudlessclimes.livejournal.com/).

**Title:** No Disaster  
 **Pairing:** Spencer/Brendon  
 **Prompt/Summary:** [#88](http://www.livejournal.com/rsearch/?tags=%2388). Brendon/Spencer. The Smiths adopt Brendon when he’s a teenager.  
 **Rating:** pg  
 **Word Count:** 1018  
 **Notes:** Written for the [](http://no-tags.livejournal.com/profile)[**no_tags**](http://no-tags.livejournal.com/) challenge. [ Found here. ](http://community.livejournal.com/no_tags/27088.html) Thanks for excellent beta from [](http://cloudlessclimes.livejournal.com/profile)[**cloudlessclimes**](http://cloudlessclimes.livejournal.com/).

  
Spencer found Brendon in their room. He was sprawled out on his bed, face down, groaning into an open book as if he was in pain. Spencer imagined that he probably was.

“Still working on it?” Spencer inquired, only a tiny quirk of his lips betraying his thoughts as he paused at the door. Brendon had been struggling with his English assignment for more than a week, and Spencer knew it.

Brendon groaned again and Spencer laughed, a sharp, bright sound, but Brendon merely ground his forehead into the pages.

“Haaaaaate,” Brendon moaned, not bothering to raise his head and underscoring his misery. Spencer patted his shoulder sympathetically as he moved past. “And _you._ ”

Brendon looked at Spencer with narrowed eyes.

“Hey,” Spencer responded, hands up and palms out. “All I said was that it was a good class when I took it last year. It’s a good elective!”

“Sure, when Ridgeway taught it,” Brendon said with a scowl. “How was I supposed to know he was getting canned over the summer, leaving me with...” He sighed dramatically. “Ormsby.”

“He didn’t get canned,” Spencer replied, flopping down onto his own bed to look at Brendon on his own level. “He went to be principal in Laughlin or something.”

“Not the point!” Brendon squawked indignantly. “He could be on the moon for all the good it does me! _She is evil._ Evil, Spencer!” There was an audible thunk as Brendon’s face connected with the page of his book once more.

“Sorry, dude,” Spencer shrugged. “It’s a little different this year?”

“Did you even have to read a book last year?” Brendon mumbled dejectedly. Spencer pressed his lips together. He had, indeed. Quite a few, which Brendon knew perfectly well. Brendon just sighed again. “You didn’t have to read _this_ ,” and he gestured lamely, with the one arm hanging off the side of his bed, toward the book that was obviously the source of his trouble.

“‘Frankenstein’ is a classic.”

“Is ‘classic’ code for dense, flowery, gothic romance bullshit?” Brendon turned to glare balefully across the space between them and Spencer snorted.

“Think of it as the granddaddy of modern horror.” Brendon’s eyes narrowed again and he wrinkled his nose. “Okay,” Spencer laughed. “Think of it as science fiction, then, if it makes you feel better. It counts.”

“I don’t think anything would make me feel better,” Brendon whined. Spencer raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, really?”

Brendon froze for a moment, then turned away, but it did nothing to conceal the blush that crept up to the tips of his ears. Spencer smiled a little to himself before he climbed up off his bed.

***

Brendon had been with them for about a year, officially. Unofficially, it was closer to three. When Brendon was fourteen, his parents had thrown him out. He was a good kid, and had always refused to lie to them, and in his innocence, had accidently come out. It didn’t go well. He would have been on the street if not for his friends, shuttled back and forth amongst them for weeks until Spencer’s late-night confession to his own parents gained Brendon a more stable place. It became permanent mere days later when the Urie’s were killed in a car crash.

There was no mention of Brendon in the will--their only child left in the minority. And Brendon’s siblings remained infuriatingly silent. The Smiths took legal action and proceeded to make Brendon their own. He was a Smith before the year was out.

Spencer was terribly proud of his parents for stepping up and taking care of things. On the other hand, it made it awfully difficult to harbor a raging crush on a guy who was now supposed to be his brother. Spencer made do.

***

Spencer could feel the heat coming off Brendon’s body before he was even close enough to touch. Brendon ran a little hot, but to Spencer, he fairly burned. And he liked to touch, Brendon did; he was handsy, with Spencer and all their friends. If he left a mark then Spencer would have been red practically from head to toe.

But it never _meant_ anything. Brendon was like that with everyone. It drove Spencer crazy. Luckily, he only had to endure a few more months before they graduated and went to college, and hopefully Spencer wouldn’t have to live with Brendon any more and deal with his habits. The constant touching and tendency toward semi-nakedness really were going to do him in.

Spencer nudged Brendon in the back, urging him to move over, and then slid onto the bed beside him. Brendon grumbled in protest, but he giggled when Spencer just elbowed him in the side and claimed his spot. Spencer was just as bad about personal space as Brendon was; he was just more selective. Not that Brendon noticed, of course. Brendon seemed to let Spencer get away with all sorts of less-than-brotherly behavior without comment.

Spencer paused with his hand in midair, ready to settle it into the small of Brendon’s back, when he realized. Brendon had been letting him do all of these things for ages--the cuddling, the touching, the _watching_ \--not because he hadn’t noticed all the inpropriety, but because he _had_. Brendon’s back flexed (waiting for Spencer’s touch?) and his body twisted as he looked over his shoulder.

“So, am I Elizabeth?” Brendon wondered. “This thing you have building in your head. Are you Victor, and I’m Elizabeth?” Spencer huffed out a breath of silent laughter, but his eyes dropped to the floor so his lashes swept across his skin, almost coy. It startled a gasp out of Brendon. “ _Oh my god_ ,” he whispered. “I’m the _monster_.”

Spencer’s blue eyes were earnest when he looked at Brendon.

“You’re not the monster,” he said softly. He leaned in and brushed his lips against Brendon’s before standing decisively and wiping his palms on his jeans, avoiding Brendon’s gaze again. “You have someone to love you,” he said, before silently slipping out the door.


End file.
